


Where Is He?

by MythsAndMythos



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: F/M, Fake AH Crew, Heist gone wrong, Immortality, Kidnapping, Rescue
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-17
Updated: 2016-08-23
Packaged: 2018-08-09 09:16:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7796068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MythsAndMythos/pseuds/MythsAndMythos
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lindsay knew being in charge of the crew would be tough work, but mounting rescue missions was something she hoped to minimize in the future.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Someone's missing

Lindsay was irritated and just a bit nervous. She had sent the crew out on an easy heist a few hours ago, a smash and grab at an assortment of convenience stores and gas stations, and she had yet to hear back from them. The other’s she expected this behavior from, they were spotty at best with communication, but she always heard from Michael by now; if only so he could have someone else listen to him as he spewed his increasingly creative insults at the cops unfortunate enough to be on duty that night.

If the heist had gone badly she’d know, getting the call from Geoff that they had to bail or at least improvise a bit of the plan, but to hear nothing was more worrying. After the first few heists with her in charge Lindsay had stopped keeping an earpiece in to listen to their chatter, trusting them to call when it was all over. The crew proved to be very competent when they wanted to be. 

Too anxious to sit still, Lindsay found herself pacing in front of the penthouse door. When those idiots walked in she was going to shout herself hoarse at them and then force them all through a communications protocol lecture, complete with when and how often to check in with her. She worried about them, despite the fact that their immortality always brought them crawling back in one piece…or several. 

The sound of the door opening and several pairs of feet trudging in had her spinning to face them, hair fanning out in a pink twirl. She looked them over, taking in the slightly singed appearance of Gavin and Jeremy and the splash of blood across Ryan’s mask. There was one conspicuously absent mop of curly hair.

“Where’s Michael?” She demanded, hoping they had just dropped him off to pick up some beer or some other stupid impulse addition to the heist. 

The fact that none of the guys would look in her direction, most finding the floor an interesting conundrum, and that Jack’s eyes contained more sympathy than Lindsay had ever seen on the other woman’s face spoke volumes. Something had gone wrong. There had been some monumental fuck up they hadn’t wanted to report to her over the phone, and now they were going to be faced with her wrath in person.

“Well?” Lindsay exclaimed, clearly expecting an answer. “Where’s my husband?”

“We lost him.” Geoff mumbled, still staring at the floor and now rubbing a tattooed hand over the back of his neck. He shifted slightly behind Ryan, trying to disappear from view and thus avoid the full force of her anger. 

Lindsay’s blood ran cold at his words. No. That’s not possible. She must had misheard. That idiot couldn’t be dead because none of them could be dead. They’d done extensive testing on what they could and could not walk away from, and so far there was a 100 percent return rate. 

“What do you mean you ‘lost’ him?” Lindsay asked slowly, the danger in her voice audible to the other crew members. 

“FakeHaus got him,” Jeremy spit out in anger. “One minute he was with us, the next he was gone and their orange mark was on the wall.”

The news that her husband had been kidnapped instead of killed made her feel marginally better, although not by much. They had avoided this situation until now because if a rival gang found out about their immortality, everything would become a lot harder. They had no clue why the Fake AH Crew was granted the power to respawn (a term coined by Ray before he left to pursue his own adventures) but they didn’t want anyone trying to experiment on them to reverse engineer the power. 

The fact that the crew was here reporting to her instead of out hunting the bastards down told Lindsay that they expected her to take the lead on this, they would let her decide just how to approach the situation, and she was more than up for the task. 

The crew had worked with FakeHaus on a few other jobs, and they even seemed to get along, so either the gang had a sudden change of heart or they were being framed. Or, some low level flunkies on the outskirts of their organization were unaware of the budding alliance between the crews and thought taking out part of the FAHC would help them rise through the ranks of FakeHaus. 

Lindsay would bet money on the last option. 

“I’ll get him.” She said with determination and strode out of the room, leaving the rest of the crew to cool down. She stormed down the hallway to the planning room where they all had stood a mere three hours earlier to review the heist. Now she would be using it to mount a rescue mission for her idiot husband. 

She knew she couldn’t leave Michael alone there for long. Having no knowledge of the situation made it harder for her to decide on a plan of attack, but luckily she was just as good with a computer as Gavin. 

Hacking into the security camera records was almost too easy, and finding the people that took Michael was even easier. As expected, they were some low level thugs not even high enough on the FakeHaus ladder for her to have met them. She was able to track them through the city, bouncing from camera to camera, until their van reached a warehouse by the docks and she saw them drag a struggling Michael inside.

From the camera's view, it was clear Michael wasn’t going down without a fight. He managed to knock one of his kidnappers on his ass and get a shoulder to another one’s nose. Lindsay smiled, knowing from experience that a hit like that would break the fucker’s nose in half. She felt pride swell inside her as she watched Michael try to take down four men easily larger than him while restrained and almost succeed.

Once she finished watching the recordings, and now knew where to go to get her man, she had to come up with an actual attack plan. She had to get to him soon. Not only would prolonged exposure to the kidnappers risk exposing the crew’s immortality, but she didn’t want Michael to experience more pain than necessary. She may have to think of the crew first as the one in charge, but she still loved the man. 

Lindsay pulled up a schematic of the warehouse, noting the entrance and exit points as well as any security. The bastards must really be stupid because the warehouse looked to be hooked up with the bare minimum in terms of surveillance. Lindsay easily identified the room Michael would most likely be kept in, and she traced her path in and out. 

As much as she’d like to murder them all, she had to get to Michael before they could kill him and realize he wouldn’t stay dead. Her own bloodlust could wait until she had him in her arms. 

Lindsay reviewed her plan and the route to the warehouse, running it over in her mind and approving it as a calculated risk. She’d already wasted too much time here. Every minute Michael was with them was a minute he could be tortured or killed.

The rest of the crew was in the living room as Lindsay marched past on her way to the armory. Jack was busy patching up the slightly burnt pair of lads on the couch while Geoff nursed a large glass of whiskey and Ryan observed stoically from the corner. She could feel their gazes on her but she ignored them, she was on a warpath and nothing would stop her until she had Michael back.

Reaching the armory, Lindsay made a mental check list of the weapons most useful for her task. She strapped knives to her belt and slid one into each of her boots, suddenly glad she had dressed for the heist even though she wasn’t supposed to be out in the city. Her favorite pistol was secured in her holster, and she grabbed Michael’s bag of explosives to rifle through. 

She found one of his handguns inside the duffle bag and sighed. Clearly they needed to have another safety meeting about proper storage of weapons and ammo. Of course, that would be after the lecture about communications and implementation of the buddy system. Deciding to keep the gun, she grabbed a couple sticky bombs and exited the armory.

The keys to the armored car were by the door and she swiped those, deciding that the intimidation factor was key. She couldn’t ignore the rest of the crew any longer and looked at the five sets of curious eyes staring her way.

“I’ll be back, hopefully with my idiot husband.”

They all nodded and muttered some form of encouragement. Ryan took a step forward, inclining his head in a silent inquiry of if she wanted his assistance. 

Lindsay raised her hand and he stopped mid stride. “I’ve got this Ryan. Why don’t you all relax and watch the news, I’m sure you’re on it.” She smiled at them, letting them know she wasn’t too angry with them, before leaving for the elevator.

Having dismissed them for the night, Lindsay exited the penthouse knowing they’d all unwind in some way while waiting for her to return. Geoff would probably stay up drinking until he saw Michael was safe, he always did have a soft spot for the younger man and he was clearly harboring some guilt about the situation. Jack would follow her suggestion and flip on the news, although Gavin was likely to hijack the TV for gaming purposes and drag them all into some mindless game to distract from the anticipation of waiting for her to return.

She rode the elevator down to the garage and settled into the car. She was going to get her husband back, and then she was going to make those bastards pay for ever taking him in the first place.


	2. Chapter 2

Lindsay raced through the city at break neck speed, ignoring every rule of the road and leaving a trail of honks behind her as drivers swerved out of her way. Her car skidded around corners and a few pedestrians had to dive into bushes or risk being flattened, which she would have normally found amusement in. There was no time for fun tonight. She could go pedestrian hunting when her husband was safely in the passenger seat, whooping with joy as they knocked bikers over and made people drop everything and run.

When she neared the warehouse she slowed and turned all the lights off, cruising silently through the darkness towards her destination. She parked a block down in an attempt to avoid alerting those inside and to stay out of sight from the minimal security they had. 

Lindsay flipped through the glove compartment, finding an assortment of loose bullets, a broken pair of Gavin’s gold sunglasses, and some of Ryan’s left over face paint. Smirking to herself, Lindsay smeared the black paint around her eyes and across her forehead before dropping the empty tin to the clutter on the floor of the car. She’d have to buy Ryan a replacement, that is, if he even noticed it missing. 

Emerging from the car and checking herself over for her weapons Lindsay began her approach, loping towards the warehouse which contained her husband. She prowled forward, slipping through the blind spots of the cameras and finding the back door. It was unlocked and she spared a moment to roll her eyes. If these people were this incompetent in a city like Los Santos, then they deserved the death she was going to give them.

She slid through the door and moved down the hallways, using her mental image of the map she memorized to guide her. Lindsay listened to the echoing voices shouting at each other in good humor in the main room of the warehouse. How dare they enjoy themselves while holding her husband hostage. Her teeth bared on instinct, and her mind was filled with the delightful images of how she would tear them apart.

No one messes with her crew and lives.

No one messes with her family.

She rounded the corner and came face to face with a young man. His eyes widened at the sight of her and his mouth gaped open. She clamped a hand over his mouth before he could recover enough to sound the alarm and dragged him outside before he could so much as squeak.

She pressed him against the brick wall outside, still staying in the camera’s blind spot, and brought one of her knives to his throat. He gulped and the movement nicked his throat on her sharp blade. The thin line of blood on his neck made her smile dangerously at him.

In the moonlight she could see him more clearly. He really was just a kid. He couldn’t be older than 16 and he was already roped into a life of crime, and poorly conducted crime at that. He had unruly brown hair that stuck up in all directions and terrified brown eyes, which he was trying to keep trained on the knife at his throat. 

Lindsay invaded his space, forcing his eyes to meet hers, and she hissed at him, “Where is he?”

The young man was trembling, she could feel his pulse flutter beneath her fingertips. He started babbling nonsense about having nothing to do with it and Lindsay sighed. Clearly he was going to be no help. She raised the knife and smacked him in the head with the hilt, knocking him unconscious and letting his body drop unceremoniously to the ground. He was so uninvolved in this, she couldn’t kill him in good conscience. Although if she ever saw him again she wouldn’t hesitate to put a bullet or blade through his pretty little skull. 

Guard disposed of, Lindsay crept back into the building and continued down the path she was on before bumping into the man. Even without asking anyone, she knew where the logical place to keep a prisoner would be in this type of building. It had to be somewhere small and dark, preferably with no windows, keeping the kidnapped person completely cut off from the outside world and with no sense of the passage of time. It should have only one entrance, and it should be far enough away from everything that the prisoner could hear no voices and was left alone with their thoughts and pain.

Lindsay reached the only room fitting that description in the plans. She paused and listened, but heard no voices or footsteps of approaching guards. She took a breath and looked at the door, noting that there wasn’t even a lock on it. These incompetent fools. It would be a mercy to kill them now, before their floundering attempts at crime got them in more trouble. 

If they knew anything about being kidnapping or holding a prisoner, Michael would be behind this door. She pushed the door open, wincing as it creaked and groaned, and flicked on her flashlight to scan the room.

She was correct.

Michael was tied to a chair and looked to be unconscious, but he stirred at the light sweeping over him. There was dried blood matted in his hair and cuts all across his body which were still oozing. She crept closer and felt for a pulse, breathing a sigh of relief when she found one. So they hadn’t managed to kill him yet, just cut him to ribbons. The sight of Michael’s blood made her own boil, and she set to work slashing at the ropes holding him to the chair.

She laid him on the floor as he started moving, blinking in confusion at her face. 

“Lindsay?” He coughed out, reaching up to cup her cheek. “Why do you look like Ryan?”

She chuckled and kissed his forehead, glad to hear his voice after the past few hours of tension. Lindsay felt herself relaxing in his presence, despite the fact they were still firmly positioned in an enemy warehouse. 

A gasp from the doorway had her drawing her weapon and firing blindly, shooting the man who made the noise clean through the head. The body swayed for a moment before crumpling in a heap. As the ringing of the gunshot cleared, Lindsay heard the sound of trampling feet and knew they were about to have company.

“Alright honey,” she said with a smile, “Now comes the fun part.”

Michael met her smile with one of equal force. His wounds were slowly healing, but he was still too weak to actually fight. She dropped his pistol into his lap and watched as he took it, running his fingers over the piece to check it. “You always know how to make me feel better.” He smirked at her just as the first thugs were reaching the doorway and finding their fallen comrade. 

Lindsay watched as they stepped over the body, barely sparing the man a glance as they charged her. She pulled out her knives, ducking the wild punches that came her way and the blindly fired bullets that found themselves lodged in the ceiling.

She slashed a man’s throat and then used him as a shield against the bullets of another, chucking the bullet riddled body to the ground and stabbing the man with the gun in the throat. She turned at the sound of another’s approach just in time to take a hunting knife to the chest from the last kidnapper. The knife had a wicked looking blade, serrated on one side and devilishly sharp.

She pulled it from her chest and smiled, “Was that supposed to hurt?”

The man who stabbed her paled and backed away until he was flat against the blood stained wall. He was shaking and babbling nonsense about demons, and a nasty smell had Lindsay looking down to determine that yes, the man had pissed himself. 

“My turn,” she sang, driving the man’s precious knife into his chest and reveling in the blood pouring out. “Doesn’t feel so great, does it?”

Lindsay let the body fall to the floor in a heap. She wiped her blood stained knives on his clothing and turned at the sound of Michael stumbling to his feet. 

“You know,” she started in a deadpan. “I gave you that gun so you’d be useful and shoot some bastards.”

Michael smirked and tucked the gun away. He reached out and put one hand on each of her cheeks, kissing her once on the forehead and then on the lips. “But I love to watch you fight, you can really fuck shit up when you want to.”

She smiled gently at him, the first soft smile to grace her face since the crew had turned up ragged and missing a member. She looped her arm around his waist while his arm rested across her shoulders and she guided him out of the room.

“I’m just glad to have you back, you idiot.” Michael looked down at the scolding and she sighed, “Although I guess it isn’t entirely your fault you got snatched. That being said,” she cut in before he could get too happy. “The whole crew is going to have a lecture on proper communications protocol and I’m seriously considering implementing a buddy system so you all keep an eye on each other.”

Michael groaned loudly and muttered a weak “fuck” into the silent warehouse.

The two reached the main room, checking the place over for any other thugs before Lindsay pulled out the sticky bombs she brought. She handed them to Michael to set up, knowing he enjoyed the process of an explosion and letting him get his own revenge on his kidnappers. He may not have shot them but he sure as shit was going to burn the place to the ground.

Charges set, the two left the building and returned to the car which remained right where Lindsay left it. 

“Let’s go home,” she broke the silence of the night. “I’m sure the others are worried sick, although it does serve them right.”

Michael nodded and accelerated away from the building, pressing the trigger to blow the building and watching the flames in the rear view mirror as he left it in their dust.

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! come chat with me at mythsandmythos.tumblr.com


End file.
